Into the Lair (Falcon Mercenary Group #2)(18)

“I wouldn’t get out if I were you. Your delicate sensibilities might be offended.”

Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him. What the hell? What sensibilities? Then she glanced in the rearview mirror to see a naked Ian thrusting a leg into a pair of jeans.

Naked? What the ever-loving f**k is he doing naked?

She continued to stare until she realized she was still staring, and then she jerked her gaze away, looking at the windshield, the seat, her hands…anything but back at the naked man.

What is he doing naked?

And why was she sitting here like a docile moron?

She peeked up at the mirror and to her relief saw that Ian was dressed and talking to Braden. Braden gestured toward the truck and her and then both men started toward the front.

Shit.

Ian reached her door first and yanked it open. He took one look at her and a feral light entered his eyes. A shiver skated down her spine and sent an odd tingling into her womb. She honestly didn’t know whether to be terrified or intrigued by the dangerous fire in his gaze.

He sucked in air through his nose, his nostrils flaring and quivering. His fists curled and clenched and then he rubbed his open palms up and down his pants legs.

Braden jerked him backward, and the truck shook as Braden thrust Ian against the hood.

“Goddamn it, Ian, what the hell is wrong with you?” Braden demanded.

“It’s her,” Ian said hoarsely.

Braden snapped his gaze to her and scowled. Then he quickly turned his attention back to his brother. “You’re getting an injection and then you’re going night-night. Are we clear?”

Katie watched in open-mouthed fascination as Braden strode to the back of the truck and then returned a moment later with a syringe. She winced when, without preamble, he stuck the needle in Ian’s arm. There was so much wrong with this scene she didn’t even know where to start. And she’d thought things were weird with Ricardo.

Braden left Ian leaning against the truck as he headed to the backseat to open the door. Katie’s gaze was drawn to Ian as he stared up at the sky, his face a brooding mold.

“Slide over,” Braden ordered.

She blinked and yanked her concentration from Ian to stare at Braden.

“Ian’s going in back. You get over in the passenger seat. No arguments.”

She immediately bristled but forced air through her nose and stifled the protest dancing on her lips. Part of survival was knowing when the hell to keep your mouth shut. This was one of those times.

She moved into the passenger seat as Braden went back to Ian. A few seconds later, Braden herded him into the backseat and shoved him into a lying position.

As she glanced casually over her shoulder, she saw Ian staring at her, those eyes flashing despite the lethargy from whatever Braden had injected him with.

Determined not to back down, she boldly met his gaze. For a long moment, they just stared at one another until discomfort skittered over her skin. When Braden opened the driver’s door, it gave her an excuse to look away.

He slid in beside her and started the engine. His hands curled around the steering wheel, but he made no move to put the truck into drive.

She shifted uncomfortably and forced her gaze away.

“This shit has to stop, Katie,” he said in a firm voice.

That pissed her off. She whirled around to glare at him. “Where the hell do you get off giving me orders? I don’t even know who you are or why you’ve taken it upon yourself to irritate the living shit out of me. Don’t you think you’ve caused me enough grief?”

He rammed the gearshift down and took off, the SUV rocking over the bumpy terrain.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

She gaped at him, speechless.

“You haven’t even asked about Gabe.”

Rage and grief grabbed hold of her throat and squeezed. Hard.

“You said he was dead,” she said through gritted teeth. “What else is there to know?”

He glanced sideways at her. “You’re a cold bitch. He was your brother.”

She shook her head and turned away. “What do you want me to do, cry? Would it make you feel better for me to fall at your feet in a weeping, wailing mass of femininity? Would that appeal to your manly ego?”

Her fingers curled into tight fists in her lap. “Well, let me tell you, none of that is going to keep me alive, and if Gabe taught me nothing else, he taught me to survive. The last thing he’d want is for me to rely on a complete stranger. Trust no one.”

“Christ, you even sound like him,” Braden muttered. “The most suspicious bastard I ever knew.”

For a moment she wanted to do just what she scorned and ask Braden about Gabe. Details. Information she was hungry for. Yes, Gabe was her brother, and he’d saved her, but she hadn’t seen him in two years. Their phone calls were always brief and to the point.

“Gabe sent us to find you,” Braden said. “Now, you can believe that or not, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to risk my ass or my brother’s just because you can’t decide whether you’d rather hang out with us or your buddy Ricardo.” He snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s a hard choice.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she said softly. “I don’t want to hang out with either of you. Do I think you’re a better choice than Ricardo? I don’t know.”